“It took me four years to learn how to paint like Raphael.
It took me a lifetime to learn how to paint like a child.”
When I heard this quote, it blew my socks off and I knew I had to share it with you. Ever since it cropped up, I’ve been thinking about it and what it meant for Picasso to “learn how to paint like a child” — and what it might mean for us as writers to bring a sense of childlike wonder to our work. Here are a few ideas:
We’d reclaim our innocence: Kids enter the world with a sense of wonder and freshness. No preconceived notions cloud their minds or hearts, no jaded sensibilities dull their ability to feel and absorb.
We’d see with fresh eyes: Everything would be new, everything would be intensely itself and amazing. We’d walk the earth in wonder at its beauty.
We’d be in the moment: Kids are in the know because they’re in the now. Time is a concept they have to learn — it’s imposed on them. Children give the moment everything they have, because it’s all they have. How wise!
We’d play and play: Remember how it used to be? How you’d play the same games hour after hour, never getting bored or tired? How you made up stories and games? How chairs became ships and ships could fly?
We’d keep on going: Flashlights under the covers were fantastic — you could read that book you just had to finish after lights out and no one would know. You’d just keep going, because it was too much fun to stop.
These are my ideas — I would love to hear yours. Write on!